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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Mista9000 on 2025-11-27 22:40:18+00:00.
This week Rikad and Ros both give generously to change the lives of the working class and poor.
A wholesome* story about a mostly sane demonologist trying his best to usher in a post-scarcity utopia using imps. It's a great read if you like optimism, progress, character growth, hard magic, and advancements that have a real impact on the world. I spend a ton of time getting the details right, focusing on grounding the story so that the more fantastic bits shine. A new chapter every Thursday.
**Some conditions apply, viewer cynicism is advised.*
Map of Pine Bluff
Map of Hyruxia
Map of the Factory and grounds
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*****
“Tell me lad, what’s the best places to drink ales?” Geon asked. He rubbed his freshly shaven chin and his long sideburns glistened in scented oils.
“Um, I don’t really know,” Ros admitted. “I wasn’t much of a drinker when I lived here.”
“Religious?” Geon asked.
Ros shrugged awkwardly, “No, but I was in a lot of churches.”
They were silent together as the Whale blew closer to Jagged Cove. The basalt spires that gave the city its name slipped past the ship on both port and starboard.
Ros added, “The nicest looking alehouses are in the upper trade district. There is a plaza with a statue of a lady getting gored by a boar. That was always where the rich out-of-towners went.”
“Aye, I’ll take a look. I’ve lately come to have some deeper pockets than I used to. I reckon you‘n I both. On account of our same boss,” the captain intoned. They could hear the seabirds circling and the shouts on the docks ahead.
“You can probably come with us when we get drinks. I’m not sure if you’d have fun, it might be boring,” Ros offered.
“A kindness, but I have people to meet. Deals to hammer out. I might need to hire a few of you later, to watch my back. I’d like to shop for a ship.” He sighed and patted the railing, “I love the Whale, but I’ve got more money than a damned dragon, I can afford an upgrade. Just good business.”
“I’d love to, but I’m not in charge of where we get posted. Maybe talk to Rikad. Or Aethlina?”
“Aye, fair.”
Ros went below decks to get geared up. The other men were already there, putting on their armour.
Eowin was fussing with some buckles. “How is it that the super-heavy armour is about the same weight and five times faster to put on than this ‘light’ gear?”
“Easy, you’re clumsy and blind. I coulda told you that the day I met you,” Jourgun said as he put on his open faced half-helm. “We can’t look like demigods from the Age of Miracles just yet! We gotta be low profile.”
“Low profile? The city guards don’t wear steel. Let alone custom partial-plate! I bet there isn’t a duke’s son that’s as geared as our ‘disguise’ armour,” Theros jeered.
Ros quickly got ready, and felt very exposed compared to the whole body hug his normal gear gave him. But it also made sense, Mageplate was too unique to wear here.
“It’s fine to be rich! We want the noble Baron to look well funded!” Jourgun said, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms to make sure it was properly fitted.
“Eww, what’s this tabard he gave us?” Eowin complained.
“That, filthy commoner, is what men of my class call a family crest. The Steelheart crest to be specific!” Rikad walked into the stinking bunk room. He slouched against the door jam with a grin. “How I envy your simple lives; unburdened by the incredible weight of command and ambition. Hurry up, we're almost there!” He left without waiting for a reply.
They chuckled and shook their heads. Almost all of them were ready now.
“Say what you will,” Eowin said optimistically, “I appreciate how much less condescending he’s become since leaving the Mageguard.”
Even Ros snorted at that. He snapped a longsword to his belt and followed the rest of them to the deck.
They’d gotten closer, the tall city walls were both familiar and strange. Ros hadn’t seen Jagged Cove from this angle before. When they fled last year, it was predawn and he didn’t get a good look. He wasn’t sure how he felt, but he wasn’t eager to get to the city, even though he was before he saw the walls. The Jagged Cove was dirtier and more menacing than he remembered.
They were signaled to an empty trade dock and they moored the ship. There were a few moments of shouting chaos but then it was time to disembark.
“Oy! Don’t go too far Pumper-man! We’ll be findin’ ya for some free beers! This whole trip was a vacation with some’n else doing the shite work!” one of the bigger sailors said, patting Ros on his back with enough force to put him off balance.
Ros smiled at the kind words, and struggled to reply, “I, erm, it wasn’t a–”
Rikad cleared his throat and ordered, “Ros and Eowin, attend me. Jourgun, arrange watches for the ship, and assign someone to the Captain for the day. It’s simpler than having to spend a whole day planning a rescue if he gets kidnapped!”
Ros waved to the grinning sailors and hurried off the ship.
Rikad was wearing his very finest doublet. It was one of astounding intricacy and detail, a standout among even impish quality. Silk brocade and thread of gold competed with bright, vibrant colours that didn’t exist in nature. Ros hadn’t ever seen someone so fancy walking the streets of the city in his whole life. He hoped that meant he wouldn’t have to fight muggers.
“Man, I can’t wait to stab some muggers,” Eowin said with relish as they walked down the dock. “Thanks for doing everything you can to make that happen, your Grace!”
“I knew you were the man for the job. I only hope you remember to angle any arterial spray away from me. We haven’t proper laundry facilities here. Not Pine Bluff quality at least,” Rikad replied. “I don’t think I need to explain that perceptions are reality here? Or do I? You were a woodcutter before you got hired, yeah?”
“I’d been a woodcutter, a butcher, a roofer and a poet. Never made money with that last one, but it landed me a wife!”
“Ah, I might get your help with that, I am looking for a wife myself on this trip. On second thought, your wife–”
Ros held his breath; Eowin’s dedication to his wife was legendary.
“--erm, on second thought, that’s rather a thing I must do on my own,” Rikad finished diplomatically.
“It’s the best thing you can do. For a buncha reasons,” Eowin said slowly, the tension thickening between the men.
“I have a great many things to do and far too little time to do it. I do not intend to spend the winter here.”
They walked through the port district. The narrow cobbled lanes were slick with mud and it all stank of low tide. The press of bodies and the deafening din were wildly unlike anything Pine Bluff could offer. This was where small time traders, scammers and smugglers congregated.
Rikad grinned like he’d come home.
“Feels different, don’t it?” the Baron asked. “Not even surprised no one recognizes me. I doubt I would.”
Ros nodded. “Very different. Too different?”
Eowin snorted, “Yeah, it feels good to be strong, rich and armed.” They continued through a narrow alley and into a wide plaza with vendors. “I guess we were one of those things right before we left.”
“Aye, feels strange. A strange homecoming. It feels like I haven’t been gone a day.” Rikad smiled. “That said, I need to learn a bit. I don’t know nearly enough about the Church– I’ll figure it out.”
“Aye, don’t envy your problems,” Eowin agreed.
“We can help, we all know the town, and I know lots of Churchers, but none of the ones with the big hats,” Ros added.
“Big hats are exactly my quarry! Not today though, let's first find somewhere to stay.”
They continued in silence; as Rikad plotted, his men looked for threats.
Oh, those are Skullstealer gangers! I recognize the hats! They look less scary. Why did they let those kids in? They are too skinny and too young. That’s a serious gang, they can do better than them. I wonder what’s happened.
The trio of youngsters in black and white striped hats watched them pass. They averted their eyes when Rikad stared at them.
Looks like Eowin will have to wait a bit longer for his fight after all.
They weaved their way up until they found what Rikad was looking for, a small inn off a quiet alley.
“This’ll do. Eowin, walk the area, evaluate the security. Ros, come with me. Do your best to look less bony. Chin up!”
With the lordly confidence he’d developed, he went in to find the innkeeper. “You there! Lass, are you the owner here? Is he about?”
The startled young lady spun at his words, “Uh, I’m in charge, milord. What seems to be amiss?”
“Amiss? Not a thing! I’m Baron Rikad Steelheart in town for business and I fancy staying here. How many rooms do you have?” Rikad wasn’t looking at her, rather inspecting the decor. He managed to be both intense and bored at once.
“Ten. Ten rooms in total, milord. But only eight are free at the mo–”
“That’s fine, I’ll take all ten. What’s the rate here? We came by sea so I have no horses, but I’ll be acquiring some.”
The young woman, no older than Ros, struggled to reply. This wasn’t where nobles stayed in the Capital. Real ones all stayed in the townhouses and palaces of their allies. It was very likely this was the fir...
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